


Baking like a dragon

by Dreamystranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baking, Dragons, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamystranger/pseuds/Dreamystranger
Summary: Dragonologist Gwendolyn Young loves two things: baking and magical creatures. Then a casual bet throws Charlie Weasley into her kitchen and she ends up with a rather different kind of recipe...
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Baking like a dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! ♥  
> This one shot combines three things that are close to my heart: Baking, magical creatures and Charles Weasley - not necessarily in that order. ;)  
> I first wrote this story in German and then translated it into English. Those, who are interested in the original version, can find it on my account as well.  
> I would like to thank [moonfairy13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/pseuds/moonfairy13) for encouraging me and proofreading the English version. If you haven't read her stories yet, you should check them out. They are brilliant - just like her. :)

__

* * *

_Not far anymore... One step ahead of the other... Gentle as a bowtruckle..._

For as long as Gwendolyn Young could remember, there had always been two things she seemed to have an innate talent for - baking desserts and interacting with magical creatures. Both required concentration, an eye for detail and a steady hand. And of the latter, she needed two at the moment.

Eagle-eyed, the witch gazed at the container in her hands, which housed the thing that combined her two talents for the first time - a dragon cake. More precisely, the edible replica of a Chinese fireball. And the result was quite remarkable:

Scales of chocolate to which a strawberry glaze gave a scarlet red shine. Sugar spikes coated in edible gold leaf. Two cake halves of dark chocolate separated by a layer of apricot jam.

 _A whole day, but definitely worth it_ , the witch thought, feeling satisfied. _Now it just has to arrive in one piece._

But that was easier said than done. Usually, the evening hours were the time of day when the bustle on the streets diminished. But anyone lucky enough to live in a place like the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was unfamiliar with such leisureliness. At any time, day or night, one could meet people. A circumstance caused by the fact that every dragon species followed a different sleeping rhythm.

There were the longhorns, which took long midday naps, undertook even longer night flights and thus bestowed their name with a whole new meaning. The horntails, which hardly slept but often pretended to be asleep to lull their prey into a false sense of security. Or the opaleyes, which stayed awake during the day and slept at night just like humans.

Gwendolyn possessed such knowledge because, in her role as a dragonologist, she had access to all the records submitted on the fire-breathing creatures. At least to those that were sufficiently readable. Because it appeared that many of the dragon keepers who wrote them had lost their interest in writing by hand after school at the latest.

 _The magical society must finally recognise the advantages of certain muggle technologies. Reports written on computer would definitely make my work easier_ , Gwendolyn thought, not for the first time, as she passed by the owlery of the reserve. The sweet smell of the pastry in her hands made sleepy animal eyes grow big.

"Sorry, sweeties," the witch smiled. "This is a birthday present."

It took a few more minutes, but soon she had reached the forest path, leading to the living quarters of the dragon keepers. Gwendolyn did not belong to those people who favoured a specific season, but had to admit that she had taken a liking to the Romanian autumn. The leaves of the deciduous trees coloured the surroundings in a dream of red, yellow and orange tones. Pines snuggled closely against each other like lovers. And the chilly wind streams swept between and past their trunks, carrying a smell of resin and wet earth with them.

Gwendolyn blinked away little tears when such a wind brushed her body. It was strong enough that honey-coloured curls flew into her face. One strand stuck to her lip balm, which the witch quickly blew away. Honey-coloured or not - her hair didn't taste sweet by a long shot.

Gwendolyn sighed in relief as soon as her best friend's hut came into view. Normally, she liked the magical barriers that blocked apparitions for safety reasons, but this time she would have gladly skipped the walk. Not least because the cake's weight made her arms feel heavy already.

 _A feather-light charm won't be necessary_ , the witch thought; the voice in her head mimicking her earlier words, which she now regretted. _Who needs magic to transport a simple cake? Me - obviously._

Head shaking, Gwendolyn climbed the short staircase to the front door and knocked on it with the tip of her foot. Already she could hear a buzz of voices and loud laughter that promised a good mood. After another knocking attempt someone finally opened the door for her.

"Ah, wonderful!" Anthony beamed - her best friend since childhood days and the central figure of the ongoing birthday party. "We've been waiting eagerly for you!"

When Gwendolyn noticed that his focus during his greeting was not on her but on the cake, she raised an eyebrow.

"Cakey couldn't wait to meet you either," the witch joked as she entered the house. "I've spent hours helping her spruce herself up. It was torture."

"Please assure her that this was completely unnecessary and I prefer her inner qualities."

Laughing, the wizard took the newly named cake from his friend, enabling her to take off her jacket and shoes. The light blue sweater underneath brought back the color that the dreary autumn sky had lost.

"Where can Cakey make herself comfortable?" Gwendolyn asked, pulling a face when the cake was pushed back into her exhausted arms again.

"Over there in the corner. I've cleared the dining table and moved it with a levitation charm to give us more room."

As the witch walked by, Anthony pressed a brotherly kiss on her hair.

"Thank you, Gwen. You're the best."

—❤—♡—❤—♡—❤—

"Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you..."

Gwendolyn couldn't refrain from smiling while the birthday song - a mixture of sober and drunken, high and deep voices - echoed through the living room. It had taken quite a while until all the guests had finally arrived, some of them by portkey. Enough time for the early arrivals to take a closer look at the alcohol that had been provided.

 _Mulled mead, Elderflower wine, firewhiskey... Well, let's hope everyone still has enough anti-hangover potions at home_ , Gwendolyn thought after the song closed with a roar.

The witch raised her glass and tilted her head to reach the remaining gillywater. A movement that evoked a familiar sting in her neck.

Sighing, Gwendolyn rotated her head as one of her hands tried to palpate the spot which had been bothering her for quite some time. In contrast to the dragon keepers, who sought direct contact with the dragons and therefore spent a lot of time outdoors, the work of a dragonologist involved plenty of research, mostly done at a desk. Gwendolyn had already tried to improve her sitting posture, but sooner or later her back bent back into the usual hump, while her nose almost stuck to the paper.

_Not much longer and I'll look like the classic witch from the muggle storybooks._

This gloomy thought, however, was quickly dispelled when they finally got to the gift distribution and immediately afterwards to the tasting of her cake. Forks stabbed, mouths tasted and eyes shone. Gwendolyn felt a warmth flaring up in her chest, just like it always did when her baking skills elicited such a reaction.

Someone poked her. It was a wizard who belonged to the healing squad.

"Tell me your secret."

"Huh?"

"The glaze."

He let his fork circle over the cake as if he wanted to hypnotise it and thereby get his answer. Clearly one of the guests who had arrived too early.

"What kind of spell did you use to glaze the cake? There's no gap. No unevenness." The man let out a sigh. "My results are always a total failure... to say the least."

A crooked smile crossed Gwendolyn's face.

"With the magic of my hands," she giggled, making her fingers dance demonstratively. "I always bake without the help of magic. I've never known anything else."

The eyes of the healer widened - whether from surprise or disbelief was impossible to tell.

"Half-blood or muggle-born?" he suddenly asked and took another bite, presumably to cover up his previous reaction. Gwendolyn's smile froze. She hated this question. In her ears it sounded every time like the equivalent of the muggle question on what financial circumstances one had grown up under.

"Is that important? It doesn't change anything about my hands."

"Uh, of course not, but-"

"I don't think it's called handmade for nothing," the witch interrupted. "Besides... Without magical aid, the end result tastes much better."

Without realising it, Gwendolyn's voice had become increasingly loud. So much, until the other guests in close proximity were able to hear her last sentence clearly and distinctly.

Anthony, who was still busy cutting the head of the dragon cake into pieces - perhaps she should have chosen a different shape after all - laughed unexpectedly.

"You want to bet on it?"

The witch blushed when, after his call, even the last of those present turned to witness the scene. Her mouth opened with the intention of rejecting his proposal, but this attempt was immediately nipped in the bud.

"Okay, everyone may cast their vote - either for magical or non-magical baking," Anthony determined. His enthusiasm for games and bets of all kinds was not unusual and well known.

"No stakes. All in good fun."

The wizard rubbed his palms together. And suddenly something shimmered in his eyes that wasn't anticipation. An expression that Gwendolyn, after years of friendship, identified as an ominous sign.

"Now, the only thing missing is an impartial referee. Any suggestions or volunteers?"

The silence after his question lasted only a second. It was such a short time interval that Gwendolyn would have stopped short, if she hadn't been slightly overwhelmed by the situation.

"Definitely Charlie!" a female voice exclaimed. "If there's anyone who knows first-rate baking of the magical kind, it's him. His mother is a force of nature in the kitchen - a truly magical cook and baker."

A second person spoke up. Another one. And another. It was positive banter of the finest kind.

"And so far, thanks to protection and freshness spells, everything has arrived here in perfect condition. Just imagine - with over two thousand kilometres linear distance!"

After the last call, Gwendolyn searched with her eyes for the red-haired wizard and found him off to one side next to two other dragon keepers, with whom he had just recently arrived. In his hands an already emptied cake plate; he stood listening to the praise of his colleagues with an indefinable expression on his face.

Charles Weasley. Although her employment on the reserve had lasted a full year already, she had just recently met him for the first time. That wasn't entirely surprising, however. The paths of the dragonologists and dragon keepers rarely crossed, despite their focus on the same fire-breathing creatures. This was due to different working locations and the separation between theoretical office work and practical field work. Nevertheless, it did happen from time to time that a dragon keeper strayed into the premises of the former. For example, to deliver certain information in person rather than by owl post - and a few months ago this someone had been Charlie.

Gwendolyn still remembered their first encounter very well. How he had suddenly stood in front of her desk. The ensuing moment of her irritation, when her papers had unexpectedly fallen into the dark veil of his shadow.

Like most dragon keepers, Charles - or rather Charlie as he corrected everyone immediately - possessed an imposing physique. Which meant that even his muscles appeared to have muscles. Red hair, mischievously shining eyes and about a thousand freckles made the package complete. But outward appearances could get tiring to look at. At least that was Gwendolyn's opinion, for her first encounter with Charlie had led to her being impressed in a completely different way.

His report on the breeding behaviour of the Welsh greens had looked absolutely perfect. No scrawls. No ink blots. No crinkled parchment. A sight that had instantly catapulted the still unknown man back then onto Gwendolyn's imaginary list of the best dragon keepers.

Since the day of their first meeting, they had run into each other at least once a week. Mostly when he needed to do something at her office. The witch had to admit that the frequency of their encounters was bizarre, considering that prior to that she hadn't even seen a strand of his red hair for months. And Charlie was no rookie. Over ten years of work experience made him one of the best-known faces on the reserve. Faces that were now part of her best friend's birthday party as well.

Gwendolyn let her eyes wander over the guests. Felt the unmistakable anticipation in the air. Noticed the excited begging of her best friend. And stopped at Charlie's eyes whose depths pinned her down.

Instinctively, her head began to nod.

"Okay, deal."

_Where was that firewhiskey again?_

"Tomorrow at noon in my cabin. Number 34. Don't be late."

—❤—♡—❤—♡—❤—

On the following day, a Saturday with particularly strong autumn winds, there was a knock at Gwendolyn's front door right on time, just before twelve o'clock. That morning, the witch had woken up with an excitement in her stomach that had grown more and more with the approach of the appointed hour. An irritating reaction. After all, the visit of the red-haired dragon keeper wasn't a date. It was all about baking. A bet.

At least that's what Gwendolyn told herself when she checked her face in the hall mirror just before opening the door. And again, when Charlie greeted her with a smile. One that she promptly returned.

"Right on time," Gwendolyn praised. "I wasn't sure if you'd really play along with the bet."

"And stand you up? Ouch, you've got such a bad impression of me?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, causing the witch to giggle. Hurriedly, she waved him in as the cold wind from outdoors pushed its way inside and between the stitches of her sweater.

Gwendolyn waited patiently until the wizard had stowed his jacket and shoes in the wardrobe. At the sight of the unmistakably hand-knitted sweater, displaying a big C, she felt nostalgia bubbling up. Until a few years ago, her paternal grandmother had always knitted multi-coloured scarves for the whole family. Even when her eyes had long since grown tired and her hands weak.

"Gwendolyn?" Charlie asked, chasing the memory away. "Are you okay?"

"Yes... Yes, of course. Just lost in thought for a moment. That's a nice sweater."

The wizard lowered his eyes as if he wanted to check what he had put on that day. His hand pressed itself on the C. It was so big that the letter disappeared completely.

"Thanks. A gift from my mother."

"Ah, the woman in question, to whom you indirectly owe your role as a referee," Gwendolyn said with a wink, indicating to him to follow her. "Perhaps it will bring me luck that you're wearing it."

At the end of the hallway her feet stopped unexpectedly, causing Charlie to nearly bump into her. The witch turned around and gulped. Because although the wizard's stature was hardly taller than her own, his broad shoulders served to make her feel small and delicate. Like a bowtruckle facing his home tree.

"Before I forget..." She cleared her throat. "There's one rule while you're here."

Her index finger pointed at a wooden wall shelf on which her wand rested.

"No magic in the house. We use the wands only in an emergency."

"How come?" Charlie asked, but without sounding upset. In fact, he obeyed her order immediately and placed his wand next to hers. This impressed Gwendolyn. There had been guests before who had strictly refused to comply with this rule.

"Don't you think that we're already surrounded by enough magic on a daily basis and rely on it far too much?"

The wizard thought about her question as he followed her from the hallway into another room. The huts in the reserve were all similarly constructed, so it came as no surprise to him when they found themselves in a living room with open access to the kitchen.

"Honestly, no," he finally replied. "Magic is a part of us. It helps us. What's wrong with always using it?"

Gwendolyn had to emit an audible sigh at his words.

"There's nothing wrong with it. Of course not," she conceded. "However, I've been feeling for years now that the magical society relies too much on magic. Some things like cooking and washing should be possible without it. I don't wish for my wand to become a sort of third hand, without which I would be utterly incapable."

During her explanation, the two of them gathered in the kitchen - a room recess, containing the most important things like refrigerator, sink and counters with integrated cupboards. Gwendolyn noticed the fascination in Charlie's eyes when he discovered the appliance that she was going to work with more closely today - her oven. She decided to end the subject of the daily use of magic with an example that an animal-loving dragon keeper, devoid of any muggle kinship, could certainly understand.

"Besides, a household without magic is safe from ashwinders," Gwendolyn said while pointing to her fireplace at the other end of the room. "No floo powder means no magical fire - ergo no danger of those snakes nesting here and causing damage."

Charlie nodded in understanding. He himself had fortunately never been in contact with those magical creatures before, but knew that they shouldn't be taken lightly. Their eggs resembled glowing coals and could burn down the whole house in the worst case.

"Well, at least that explains why your cabin isn't connected to the reserve's floo network," he grinned and then murmured more to himself: "And why you can't be contacted spontaneously."

Before the witch could remark that she hadn't quite caught the last sentence, he changed the topic.

"What kind of cake do you have planned?" Charlie asked, examining the kitchen, which was still as clean as a whistle at this point. How such neatness could be achieved without magical help was a mystery to him.

Gwendolyn leaned against the counter.

"Nothing too elaborate. I don't want to spend ages in the kitchen today and keep you waiting," she decided, tapping her lips with a finger. "A sponge mixture, I'd say... Yes, that's a good idea."

Thoughtfully, the witch went through her recipes and possibilities inside her head. It shouldn't take too long and had to be achievable to bake with the available ingredients. Gwendolyn noticed the cocoa powder she had forgotten to put away in the morning after breakfast - and smiled.

"Hm, ever tried a red wine cake?"

"Are you serious?"

Charlie stared at the witch wide-eyed - a reaction that drew a laugh from her.

"I'll take that as a no," she said and went to the refrigerator, which had a hook for her apron attached to the side of it. As soon as it was on, she rolled a scrunchie off her wrist and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. Gwendolyn heard her guest laugh softly. The reason for this was the phrase that now flaunted on her stomach next to a colourful piece of art.

"Baking like a dragon?"

"A Christmas present from my father." The witch blushed. "Don't you dare say that real dragons look completely different. Anthony's done enough of that already."

While she was still talking to him, Gwendolyn had started whizzing through the kitchen like a little whirlwind. Drawers and cupboards were searched, necessary ingredients placed on the counter and unimportant items pushed aside. After her third circuit, Charlie felt like an obstacle that was being circumnavigated during a broom ride.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Well, that's very kind of you, but no, thanks." Gwendolyn let her finger swirl. "I can concentrate most effectively when there's no other person in the kitchen."

The unwillingness in the dragon keeper's face amused the woman, causing her to change her strategy.

"Charlie, you're the referee. Wouldn't it be cheating if you helped me?"

"But... But that..."

In response to this empty answer, Gwendolyn grabbed his elbow and dragged him along with her. An act that involved her resolutely trying to ignore the fact that the sweater's fabric was the only soft thing about him. Her hand might as well have been holding a moss-covered stone.

"I have lots of books, if you want to read something. Otherwise, feel free to turn on the TV."

The witch pointed to the two things that were located in different corners of the living room. Electricity was something she couldn't manage without, given her lifestyle.

"I don't mind the noise. When I am baking, I often let music or a film play in the background. It can get..."

 _...very quiet._ But Gwendolyn left this sentence unfinished.

Absorbed in thought, she watched as the wizard began to inspect her home more closely. When he let a hand slide across the screen of her TV - almost like a child visiting an aquarium for the first time - the witch tilted her head with a smile.

"Have you ever operated such a device before?"

Charlie jerked up.

"No, I'm afraid not," he confessed in shame, hastily adding as an explanation: "I only had one year of muggle studies at school and it was purely theoretical."

"Hogwarts, right?" Gwendolyn waited for his nod. "That's a shame. It was one of my favourite subjects back then, because we were also taught many practical things - for example, how a computer works, classical dances and self-defence."

"You went to the same school as Anthony, right? The..."

"...Black Forest Magic Academy in Germany. Correct."

At the thought of her old school the witch had to smile. Dark walls and towers within a thicket of fir trees. At first, it seemed inconspicuous and murky, but as soon as one had entered, it was revealed to be a light-flooded place of wonders.

"My mother was a German witch. I never met her, but decided to attend the same magic school because of her - and never regretted that decision."

She laughed half-heartedly.

"Although the Black Forest has a huge erkling problem. One of the reasons I didn't even blink an eye at the prospect of living on a dragon reserve."

Gwendolyn set the oven to 175 degrees and selected the circulating air function. As soon as the interior lit up in the process of preheating, she sought Charlie's eyes and noticed a surprising intensity in them.

_Did I say something wrong?_

With a shaky hand movement, the witch stroked a lock of hair behind her ear that had been too short for the ponytail. Then she proceeded to explain to the wizard the most important functions of the remote control, all of which he had internalised in a very short time.

Back in the kitchen, Gwendolyn stretched her fingers until they cracked - a terrible habit.

_All right, now to the weighing and measuring._

The witch had realised early on that the best way to cope with baking was to first prepare all the ingredients and then to tackle the main part. One could compare it with the nursing procedure of dragons. For instance, the dragon keepers prepared the food in advance too before venturing into the enclosures. A hungry dragon shouldn't be underestimated.

_Butter, sugar and eggs... flour and baking powder..._

Gwendolyn pointed her finger at each individual ingredient.

_Cinnamon, cocoa, chocolate sprinkles... and the red wine of course - perfect._

While she prepared the right quantities with utmost care, Charlie zapped through the channels on the television. Gwendolyn listened to the snippets of various programs. Sometimes more and sometimes less. Depending on how much interest the wizard showed in the content. An advertisement about the purchase of a pension, the weather forecast for the following week, a shopping channel for jewellery... It went on like this for quite a while until he thankfully stopped at an animal documentary at last.

 _I should have bet on that_ , Gwendolyn thought with a chuckle while pouring the red wine into a measuring jug - one hundred and twenty-five millilitres, about eight and a half tablespoons.

"Did you know that a beaver's incisors grow throughout its entire life?" Charlie informed her at one point. His astonished tone could hardly be missed. "Non-magical animals are really fascinating."

Gwendolyn shook her head at the last statement.

"Did you doubt that?" she replied. "They are one of the reasons why I'm standing here today."

"Really? How come?"

The witch saw that her visitor had turned his body towards her on the couch. And somehow this sight managed to make her mind go blank. Sweater sleeves rolled up, one arm swung over the backrest and his hair still ruffled by the wind - that is how Charles Weasley dared to look at her and make it appear as if he had been delivered with the furniture. His red hair matched the brown leather perfectly. Like fire and logs.

"Um... Yes," she began and quickly opened one of the cupboard doors in an attempt to take refuge behind it and fetch her food processor. Mistake. It was the wrong cupboard.

"My... My father is a zookeeper. He takes care of non-magical animals. That's why."

"Sounds like someone I'd get along with."

"Well, there's quite a gap between zoo animals and dragons."

"The basic idea is the same."

With a nod of agreement, Gwendolyn closed the cupboard and opened its neighbour, where the object she sought was waiting. Eagerly, she stretched out her arms, grabbed the device, concentrated on the strength in her muscles... and released a frustrated breath. Too heavy. The first attempt at lifting failed every time. It couldn't go on like that. She needed to find a better place for this machine - or start weight training.

Her dilemma did not go unnoticed by her guest. Steps sounded.

"Do you need help?"

"No, it's all-"

But the wizard was already at her side. Without difficulty he lifted the machine out of the cabinet and placed it on the empty counter area. There was a muffled sound that occurred on contact.

"Thank you," Gwendolyn said, forcing her eyes to his own to prevent getting caught in the admiration of his exposed arm muscles. Charlie grinned and for a moment the witch feared she hadn't reacted quickly enough.

"Despite your "no magic in the house" rule, you might want to consider a feather-light charm in future." He rolled his shoulders. "The thing weighs as much as the egg of an ironbelly. Way too heavy. And I can't always be there to help."

The last sentence made Gwendolyn forget all shame and roll her eyes.

"No need to worry. I've managed very well on my own so far."

"And I've never doubted that. I'm just worried about your back."

Charlie raised one hand as if he intended to touch that very body part, but at the last moment decided against it. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and returned to the couch. It was not until he sat down that Gwendolyn turned to the work surface once more. Heat bubbled under her cheeks as if she had been standing too long in front of the oven. Were his words just meant to be a nice gesture? Or had he noticed her occasional backache? Did that mean he had been watching her?

While these questions knotted together in the witch's head, her hands were busy unwinding the cable of the food processor. At least one tangle that she could easily unravel. As soon as the contact to the power supply was established, the woman nodded in satisfaction.

_All right. Now to the main part._

The first step involved the creaming of butter and sugar, each weighing two hundred and fifty grams, to a fluffy consistency. Afterwards the witch had to crack - one, two, three, four and five - eggs against the rim of the bowl. In the process, a piece of shell fell into the dough alongside the egg white and egg yolk, which she carefully fished out. Nobody was perfect.

Step two entailed the addition of the dry ingredients. Four teaspoons of baking powder were mixed with three hundred grams of flour before everything found its way into the bowl through a sieve. Gwendolyn piled two teaspoons of cinnamon and cocoa into the mix - there was hardly anything better than this fragrance.

_Okay, now everything has to get stirred again..._

While the food processor loudly did its work, the witch missed how her guest switched off the TV, got up and approached with a soft tread. Charlie watched with keen interest as she blindly reached for the measuring cup containing the red wine and carefully poured the liquid into the bowl. Just a little at a time to reduce the risk of splashing.

When she was done, the wizard came a little closer and bent down slightly to examine the contents. Her shampoo's scent mingled with that of the dough - vanilla and cocoa - and he took a deep breath.

"Hmmm... That smells really good."

At the sound of his voice Gwendolyn recoiled, bumping into his chest. With one hand on her heart, she turned around.

"Merlin's beard! Don't sneak up on me like that," she rebuked and blushed when she noticed the small distance between them. Charlie laughed. Little wrinkles appeared next to his eyes and the corners of his mouth like shooting stars, flying fleetingly across a night sky.

"There's something missing, isn't there?" he realised and reached for a small bowl of chocolate sprinkles. Gwendolyn slowly turned around again. The sight of her mixing bowl was harmless. In complete contrast to his massive chest.

"Y-yes, each person must decide for themselves what to do with the sprinkles. The standard version of my recipe prescribes one hundred and fifty grams," she explained and took the bowl from him. Gently she let a few of the chunks trickle into the dough.

"Some people prefer to add all the sprinkles at once, but I like to withhold a small amount and spread it over the glaze at the end - a simple but nice decoration."

The witch detached the bowl from the food processor and used a spatula to fold in the added chocolate. But although this completed the most difficult part of the baking, Gwendolyn didn't dare move a single muscle. Charlie was still standing so close that she imagined feeling his warmth on her back. Did he realise that he was confusing her with such behaviour? Or maybe it was actually intentional? Damn - no. Certainly not. She was overthinking everything again.

"Now, this is what I'd call a good portion," Charlie remarked.

"Well that's the way the recipe was written, but naturally you can cut the ingredients in half if you want to bake a smaller ca... hey!"

In a flash the wizard had moved one finger along the upper edge of the dough. Not a second later said finger was in his mouth. The satisfied, almost humming sound that followed made Gwendolyn's arm hair stand on end.

"Merlin, this is really good."

"Of... Of course." The witch cleared her throat. "What else?"

She squeezed past him to open the cupboard door where she kept her baking pans. By doing so she missed the way the wizard let his gaze wander from her curly ponytail down to the curves of her hips and then back up again. Almost like a climber who could not decide which viewpoint on her body was the most beautiful.

"I always use a Bundt cake pan for such a large amount of dough."

Gwendolyn lifted the object in question and placed it next to the bowl.

"Mine is made of silicone. Saves me the trouble of greasing it."

Charlie nodded understandingly.

"My mother always uses a spell that releases the cake without getting stuck."

"Well, muggles have to rely on butter without a silicone mould. This works just as well."

The unconvinced expression that followed her answer made Gwendolyn smile. Determined, she filled the dough into the mould and shortly afterwards put it into the oven, which was preheated sufficiently. Once she had taken off her kitchen apron and hung it on the hook, her eyes jumped to the wall clock above the refrigerator. Since her oven had no timer, she had to resort to this method.

"Okay, now the cake just has to bake for forty-five minutes - plus or minus a few - and get its chocolate glaze," Gwendolyn explained, nervously reaching for her neck. Now that her mind and hands had no task anymore, there was nothing left to distract her. Especially not from such little things like the observant smile Charlie bestowed upon her.

"So... I can understand if you'd rather leave now. You... Um... surely have better things to do than to wait here with-"

Gwendolyn's nervous talking came to an end when there was suddenly a towel thrown in her direction. Her hands, which had been kneading each other like a shortcrust, caught it without difficulty.

Charlie adjusted his sweater sleeves that had slid down slightly. With a wink he pointed towards the sink which now contained the less exciting part of the baking process.

"I wash. You dry."

—❤—♡—❤—♡—❤—

"You landed on an old lady? Really?"

"It was my first attempt at apparition! I've got much better since then!"

Charlie's attempt at justifying himself was drowned out by the laughter of the witch he was chatting to, who hastily put down her drink to avoid spilling it. Chuckling, Gwendolyn held one hand over her mouth. Amazed at how completely relaxed and happy she felt at that moment.

Charlie was a wonderful conversationalist. After doing the dishes together, the two of them had ended up on the couch, accompanied by the wine left over from baking. A spot that Gwendolyn had to vacate only twice - the first time to check the condition of the cake with a wooden skewer and the second time to take it out of the oven. Now it was cooling down in silent expectation of a dress made of chocolate.

"You're acting as if you've never had a magical accident before," Charlie laughed and poked her in the side. Squeaking, she smacked his hand.

"I never said that!" the witch replied and moved imperceptibly closer. "If you must know, one of my first jumps was also very memorable."

"In what way?"

Clamping her lower lip between her teeth, Gwendolyn played with the hair tie on her wrist. She had quickly let her hair down again after baking.

"I may have landed upside down in a pine tree once...?"

Charlie stared at her for a long second. Then he laughed out loud, causing their roles from before to be reversed. The witch felt her cheeks heating up.

"It was the depth of winter and pitch dark...! I wanted to spare myself the forest road..." she sputtered, but it only intensified his laughter. "Come on, it's not that funny. At least I had no witnesses around!"

Head shaking, Gwendolyn reached for her red wine glass to take a sip. After that, their conversation drifted to topics that were linked to work. Charlie mentioned that soon it would be cold enough for the Canadian brownwings to retreat for hibernation. And Gwendolyn showed interest in this peculiarity, which no other dragon species had shown so far. Research hadn't yet solved the mystery.

"Speaking of which... How is it that..." Charlie stopped briefly. "Why did you become a dragonologist? You have to admit, it's a pretty unique profession."

Gwendolyn rested her head on a fist. One eyebrow raised.

"Says the dragon keeper, who could end up as an ash heap any day."

"Touché - but that doesn't answer my question."

At Charlie's expectant gaze the witch sighed softly and pulled her legs up on the couch. Secretly thinking that her reason wasn't an exceptional one.

"I love animals. Always have. Magical or not," she said, smiling at a memory that was hers alone. All of a sudden far away.

"When I was little, I received all kinds of books related to them. Magical ones in which hippogriffs and fairies flew across the pages... and non-magical ones about enchanted frogs and cats in boots."

Gwendolyn looked at her bookshelf, which she had pointed out to him earlier. Her collection indeed represented a motley mix of both worlds.

"But do you know which creatures always stood out? Every damn time?" she asked, knowing that the answer was obvious. "Dragons."

With shining eyes, she listed literary examples like a quidditch fan who knew the sports victories of her favourite team by heart. Words like beautiful, extraordinary and overwhelming were spoken. And if she had only tilted her head slightly - just one tiny bit - then she would have noticed Charlie's immersion. He too thought of these words. But, for a change, not in relation to dragons.

"Oh, what am I talking about?" the witch soon said and got up. "I better go and prepare the chocolate glaze. The cake should have cooled down by now."

As Gwendolyn walked towards the kitchen, the wizard followed her like a shadow. Unlike the other preparations, it did not take long to melt chocolate over a water bath. As soon as the brown lumps had combined themselves to a molten mass, she pushed the two connected pots away from the heat and switched the stove off. Afterwards the witch opened the drawer in which she kept her cutlery, but also all kinds of baking tools.

Just as she tried to grab a spoon for the coating, a hand barged in between.

"So you're a painter too?" Charlie asked and lifted one of her pastry brushes. Gwendolyn pulled a face at the very thought.

"Not really. My artistry is limited to designing cakes like the one for Anthony yesterday. I'm quite good at moulding, but give me something to paint with and I create strange line drawings that even a toddler could outdo." She shrugged her shoulders. "But if you define the application of oils and greases as art, then-"

A nudge on her nose interrupted the last sentence. It had happened so quickly - faster than a snitch - that Gwendolyn was only able to blink at first. Then she raised two fingers to the tip of her nose. Her mouth opened at the sight of the chocolate.

"That... You..."

As soon as Charlie started to laugh, she reacted like lightning and returned his attack with the other brush. Silence fell. The wizard just stared at her for a long moment. Then suddenly he smiled. With a skillful movement he daubed a line on her cheek.

"Oh, this means war," Gwendolyn declared and proved herself right.

A quarter of an hour later, their bodies resembled a battlefield. There was no scent that could have been perceived apart from the chocolate. It stuck everywhere. Like sand after a long day at the beach or sweat after a particularly strenuous quidditch game.

While they both took deep breaths, exhausted from laughing and fighting for the pot, the sweetness seemed to float in every waft of air.

"Will we... call it... a draw?" Gwendolyn asked, trying to normalise her breathing. Instead of answering her, the wizard came closer. Without losing focus on her, he dipped the brush into the last bit of chocolate glaze. The witch made a sound that was half amused, half warning.

"Charles Weasley, I warn y-"

In the middle of the sentence her lips were coated with chocolate and that brief moment, when the bristles touched such a sensitive spot, made her freeze. Gwendolyn's eyes fell to his mouth. A reaction that lasted only for a split second, but did not go unnoticed. Charlie gazed at her with the same look he had so often that day. Only this time she knew what was hiding behind it... Hunger. But certainly not for cake or chocolate.

Before Gwendolyn could lift her brush for a counterattack, his lips suddenly met hers. Hard. Urgent. Conquering. The witch gasped for air against him as she was pushed backwards. She felt the remaining heat of the oven on her back, but even that could not compete with the warmth that blossomed on her cheeks. The kiss was sweet in two senses, but also short. Charlie sucked the chocolate from her lower lip and then stepped back. Next to the brushstrokes on his face, his skin glowed bright red.

"Merlin... That didn't work out the way I planned." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Is this going too fast for you? I wasn't sure if... Fuck, did you even like-"

Gwendolyn stopped his flow of speech with a new brushstroke, followed by another kiss. Her tongue traced the line of his mouth, savouring the dark sweetness. A moan came from deep within her chest as strong arms pulled her closer. More and more. Until not even parchment could fit between their bodies. Brushes fell and clacked on impact.

"I like it," she gasped during a brief pause. "I like it a lot, actually."

A relieved, blissful sound escaped from Charlie's lips. It wasn't long before their kisses grew deep and their breathing heavy. His lips embarked on a journey from her mouth over her cheek to her neck, while Gwendolyn's fingers slid up and into his red, soft hair. It was heavenly.

The witch made an audible gasp when she was suddenly lifted up with the same ease as her food processor earlier. Reflexively, her fingers clung more firmly to his hair, causing Charlie to hiss. The noise was stifled as their lips joined for another kiss.

Gwendolyn's hands dropped, her legs embraced him - and his began to move. Within a minute her back slammed against a door, which they both knew led to the bedroom. The contact on impact caused an obvious wrinkle to appear between the witch's eyebrows. Sharp pain resulted in her fingernails poking into his neck like needles.

Charlie cursed quietly in light of his carelessness.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to do that." Breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead against hers. "Does it hurt much?"

His concern made Gwendolyn smile.

"I'm not hurt, Charlie," she assured him, stroking his hairline. "It's just the result of my bad sitting posture, carrying too many files and..."

"...lifting too heavy muggle machines?"

The witch rolled her eyes, after which her companion reacted with a quiet chuckle. For a long moment the two simply looked at each other. Overwhelmed by the many small events that had led to them now finding themselves in each other's arms. Halfway to becoming a united whole.

Charlie put his hand on the door handle but did not push it down. His lungs took a deep breath in and out.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "Once we get behind this door, I won't want to hold back. I'll want to read and obey every wish from your lips."

Gwendolyn clasped his cheeks, enabling her thumbs to brush away the excess dried chocolate. The number of freckles underneath was enormous. And each one deserved to be kissed. Even those still unknown to her.

The witch leaned to the right in his arms - to the place where their two wands rested on the wall shelf. Determined, she grabbed her own for a quick spell that made Charlie groan. It was the contraception spell.

"I could say the same thing," she replied, putting back the wand she had just broken her own rule with. Her voice no more than a whisper.

Charlie fixed her with a heated look, hot as dragon fire - and that was it. Their lips met midway for a burning, breathtaking kiss. Gwendolyn felt a draught when the door behind her was kicked open. A chill that calmed her heated mind briefly.

 _By all the magic_ , she thought and felt a pulsing inside her. _This is really happening._

In the centre of the room, right in front of the foot of the bed, the wizard carefully lowered her body to the floor. Slower, gentler kisses followed. Until both had sufficiently memorised each other's lips.

A rattling breath escaped Gwendolyn. Cautiously she tugged at his sweater, which had certainly seen better days after their battle in the kitchen.

"Looks like it actually brought me luck."

"Not just you." Charlie shuddered as her hands slid under the fabric and repeated in a deeper voice, "Merlin, not just you."

Smiling, she palpated his warm skin, felt the unmistakable unevenness of older injuries that had long since healed - and noticed how her counterpart held his breath many a time. Charlie granted her a brief period of exploration. When it was over, he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips before finally undressing his upper body.

_By Merlin's beard and all the creatures on this world._

Gwendolyn knew from her best friend that physical fitness played an important role in the work of a dragon keeper. Dragons were fast. They were strong. And not to mention unpredictable. If one lacked the necessary agility and strength at a crucial moment, the consequence could be death - not only of oneself, but also of others. But this knowledge failed to prepare the witch for the sight that now revealed itself to her.

Broad, powerful shoulders and arms. Short and long, dark and light scars. In between, reddish chest hair. And freckles - everywhere. Enough to spend a lifetime kissing each and every one.

It was such a magnificent sight that the witch had to swallow noticeably. She lowered her eyes to his abs, imagining every soft spot, every wrinkle, every flaw on herself and magnifying it a thousandfold. Her insecurity would certainly have increased even more if there had not appeared something unexpected in her field of vision.

"No... Is that...?"

Gwendolyn touched his skin in astonishment. Traced with her eyes how a small creature - a dragon - stretched its wings and used the wizard's body as a sky. It was the first time the witch had seen a magical tattoo at close range. And it was breathtaking.

"A Welsh green," Charlie said, earning himself an ironic look as she reminded him that he wasn't the only dragon expert in the room. Gwendolyn leaned further forward as if she was engaged in a new research text.

"Damn... these details..." she breathed. "The colour tones... The shape of the scales... Merlin, even the wingspan...!"

With a sense of proportion as well as thumb and index finger she checked the length of the wings, until suddenly her chin was lifted. The amused twinkle in Charlie's eyes brought the blood to her cheeks.

"I'm sure she appreciates the compliment."

"The green is a female?"

Before the witch could even think of checking this newly acquired information, she was drawn closer. Charlie's nose stroked hers - a tender Eskimo kiss followed by a real one. Gwendolyn sighed inwardly.

While one of the wizard's hands held her hip, the other slipped beneath the sweater fabric, whose warmth was starting to bother her. It clicked - and her bra lost its tension. At that moment the witch froze, rethinking her outfit at the worst possible time.

_What did I put on again this morning? Something practical. Nothing seductive. Damn it._

"Wait... I... other... under... wear..."

Charlie's kisses made it difficult to verbalise thoughts - but he understood.

"Next... time."

The promise that lay dormant in those two words, expressed with such conviction, swept through Gwendolyn's mind and emptied it. Panting, she closed her eyes as he explored the cleared path and caressed her chest. His rough fingers, marked by work, evoked goose bumps. Sighing, she leaned closer, but that was not enough. She wanted... _needed_ more.

The witch's eyelids lifted. At the same time she grasped the hem of the sweater. As Charlie realised her intention, his hands slid down as well. Together they freed her upper body from the needless burden. All that remained was bare skin.

Gwendolyn straightened her spine, pushed her breasts upwards and took a breath of air hostage to flatten her stomach. An action that the wizard could not condone. Grinning, he sought her weak spot and immediately found it under her armpits. The witch squeaked at the sudden tickle attack.

"You are..." Charlie laughed, suppressing her attempts to escape. "...beautiful!"

His hands were relentless. When Gwendolyn tried to retaliate, she failed because of his resistance. Out of breath, she reached into his hair and initiated quick, distracting kisses. That worked.

Half laughing, half gasping for air, the two moved towards the bed. Fingers fumbled. Trousers were stranded on the floor. When Gwendolyn's lower legs came into contact with the end of the bed, strong arms kept her from losing her balance. In slow motion her body sank to the mattress. Charlie's broad form was bursting with strength right above it. Softness and hardness produced a tingling contrast that had the witch swallowing. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breathing. At first due to the previous events, then on account of the dark eyes that admired her shape with utmost precision.

Charlie muttered something - was it "unbelievable"? - before he shifted his centre of gravity to express his full appreciation for her upper body. Gently, he stroked the underside of her left breast while his lips enclosed the bud of the other. Heat shot through the witch's body all the way down to her centre.

"Hah... Char... lie..."

Her hands went sideways up to his back - traced the lines of his shoulder blades, the scars of his hazardous work. There was one he reacted particularly sensitively to. It was deep, jagged and located at the height of the upper left rib. Charlie shivered. His lips detached for a deep breath.

"Good?" Gwendolyn whispered.

The wizard nodded with closed eyes. This reaction encouraged the witch to move her fingers once more. Like tiny dancers they drew circles on the parquet floor of his back. But that only went well for a few seconds. Charlie grabbed one of her arms. Burning kisses dripped like quick, fleeting raindrops onto her skin until he stopped at her wrist. His lips pressed against her pulse. Gwendolyn's heart pounded with a strength that was perceptible.

Inhaling deeply, Charlie closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was nothing but desire to be seen. And the witch made a mental note to put on a light perfume before the promised next time.

Gwendolyn detected the restlessness in his lower body and a new flood of warmth in her own. Without really thinking about it, her hand floated down. When she found her goal, a sharp hiss, gasp and groan were heard in quick succession. Charlie was hard. Merlin. More than that.

Trembling with anticipation, she freed him from the bothersome, confining fabric. And a quick check confirmed: He actually had freckles _everywhere_.

The delighted breath that followed the witch's discovery turned into a rattling one. Rough fingers on her panties. A harp-like plucking. Charlie looked at her expectantly.

"Yes?"

Hearts thundered.

"Yes..."

Slowly - inconceivably slowly - the wizard removed the last barrier between them. Kissed her bellybutton, her left hip and her right hip. Eventually, warm breath hit the uncovered territory. Gwendolyn clung to the blanket. When he leaned forward, her hands urged him upwards. Charlie blinked in surprise.

"Next time..." she promised with a smile, repeating his previous words. Full of anticipation for the moment at which she would be ready for this kind of caress - and also to return the favour.

Charlie nodded. With gentle movements he positioned himself between her legs. The first contact with his tip created a strong tingle, like lightning in her lower abdomen. Gwendolyn received three fleeting kisses - forehead, nose and mouth.

"Ready?"

In response the witch took his hand. Tormentingly slowly, she guided it downwards like a figure on the tramp - through the valley of her breasts, across the plain of her belly and into the forest of her femininity. Charlie dipped two fingers into her innermost centre and groaned at the warm moisture that greeted him there. She was ready. Merlin. She was more than ready.

"Are you?" Gwendolyn teased and crawled slightly backwards to take a more comfortable position. Charlie laughed darkly.

"No - but soon."

After his unexpected answer, the wizard lifted her upper body, took one of the unused pillows and placed it behind her. As she leaned back, the soft buffer provided an additional relief for her back. And when Gwendolyn looked into his eyes - a sense of well-being both on the outside and inside - her heart made an inevitable decision: This is the man she would never let go of. Never. As long as he wanted her too.

"Better? Otherwise, I could just..."

Charlie's proposal ended in a stifled groan when Gwendolyn seized his manhood. With a racing heart - before long it would leap out of her chest - she stared at him.

"I want you - _now_ ," she whispered. The last word sounded like a released breath. Inaudible if not for the utter silence of the bedroom. And that's all it took.

Charlie kissed her urgently - seeking, touching and sinking into her midst. When they connected, it happened so gradually and gently that Gwendolyn experienced the stretching of her insides all the more intensely. With her eyes closed, she pursued this feeling of deepest togetherness. Her face buried in the crook of his neck.

As soon as he was fully, as deeply as possible, immersed in her, a sound of profound relief escaped both of them. As if their souls had only been waiting for this moment.

"Oh Merlin," Charlie groaned and pressed his face into her curls. "Perfect. Better than in my dreams."

The last sentence hit the witch with the power of a stunning spell. Her breathing stopped briefly. When Charlie noticed this reaction, his hand moved to her hair to stroke her scalp. He lifted himself up a little bit so that he could look at her. As soon as his mouth opened - an explanation already on the tip of his tongue - Gwendolyn shook her head.

"Later..." she murmured and pulled him down to her. "No more words now... except my name..."

Their lips touched. This time leisurely, explorative, preserving. Charlie mumbled her name into the kiss and Gwendolyn answered him with his own. Then their bodies finally started to move.

The wizard grasped one of her hands. Pressed it into the mattress at head level. Their fingers intertwined. The different callouses from writing with a feather and dragon fire squeezed against each other like two puzzle pieces.

"Oh Gwen... dolyn..." Charlie gasped - and then, for the sake of simplicity: "Gwen..."

He looked at the witch in a way no man had ever looked at her before - whether he was laying between her legs or not. Like a treasure. Like she was irreplaceable. And Gwendolyn did not need a mirror to know that she was contemplating him with an identical look.

Panting, she lifted one leg to swing it over his right hip - to feel him more deeply. The heat between the two brought a blanket of sweat over them. Its salty taste mingled with the sweetness of the chocolate that got on the tongue while kissing the skin.

At some point Gwendolyn felt her hand being pressed a little harder. And she was not surprised when Charlie loosened this grip only a little while later to trail his way to the place where their bodies repeatedly came together like magnets.

"Gwen... Oh Gwen..." He found her pearl. "Let go... my love..."

And she did. Gasping, she stretched her neck as their lovemaking, which had begun with smouldering kisses, erupted into a blazing inferno. Usually, Gwendolyn was one of those people who closed their eyes in such moments. Determined to show full appreciation for this feeling of culminating pleasure. Not this time. This time she wanted something different.

Gwendolyn forced her eyelids to remain open - and felt her face and décolleté heat up like in fever. Charlie's pupils were dilated to the limit. At no point did the eye contact between them break off. It was utmost intimacy.

The end only came when the fluttering of her inner walls became too much. Vigorously, he pushed into her one last time before finding release with a groan that he muffled in her curls. The witch felt a warmth that enveloped her both externally and internally. And she knew - that was it. She was lost. Lost in the maelstrom of ultimate closeness.

After a prolonged moment of silence, broken only by their breaths, the wizard gently retreated and rolled over beside her. Gwendolyn shivered. With the fading heat she suddenly became sensitive to the chilly room temperature. When Charlie noticed this, he turned sideways to give her his body heat. After a few initial difficulties, the blanket was put to use as well. The renewed contact between them, his chest against her back, elicited a delighted sigh from the witch.

"Damn... That was..." Charlie stroked her stomach. Blissfully. "...everything."

Gwendolyn hid a smile in the pillow. Overwhelmed by her feelings.

"And we haven't even done _everything_ ," she joked and squealed as the hand on her stomach shot up to her right armpit. And just like before, the tickle attack only ended with a kiss. When swollen lips parted, Gwendolyn had to smirk.

"You owe me an answer."

"Huh?"

The witch turned. Fingers caressed his chest where a scar rested and his heart pounded strongly. Just perfect.

"Better than in your dreams?" she repeated quietly, searching for his eyes. Charlie took a deep breath. As he released it, he rolled onto his back, dragging her body with him in the process. Gwendolyn felt his hand draw circles on her skin.

"About three months ago..." he started and sighed with a smile. "...I saw you for the first time. Some other dragonologist needed records of the mating habits of certain dragon species. Including the Welsh greens I'm responsible for. I went in there, put the stuff in his hand and..."

He put an arm over his eyes as if he wanted to hide his face or call up the memory in absolute darkness.

"...there you were. Terrible posture. Ink on your face. And so bloody beautiful."

Gwendolyn just stared at him. Speechless, but at the same time a thousand questions in her eyes. Charlie lowered his arm, laughed softly and pulled her even closer than before. Inhaling the vanilla scent of her curls.

"I have no idea," he confessed, as if he could read her mind. "But in that moment, you hit me like a dragon's tail. I just needed to get to know you and came back the next day with the very first report."

"Mhm, about the breeding behaviour of the greens. Neatly written. And very detailed."

"Of course. First impressions are important." Charlie laughed. "That's not to say my other reports look sloppy - just to be clear."

When his laughter dried up, the strokes on her skin stopped as well.

"A week ago I was busted... or maybe even before that - I don't know."

He raised his free hand, using it to count up names.

"Chris ragged me. Shortly afterwards Raffaella showed up with tips. Then Anton. Remi. Nashita..." He shut his eyes. "Anthony."

The witch's eyes widened at the mention of her childhood friend. Charlie grabbed her hand on his chest. Interlocking their fingers.

"Don't worry. He may have played the classic protector and threatened to feed me to his vipertooths..." Gwendolyn gasped for breath. "...but then calmed down rather quickly. Well, even more than that."

The wizard leaned his head against hers. Blond and red strands, honey and fire, embraced each other.

"As you may have gathered yesterday, some people here have great potential for a career as matchmakers," he murmured. "Hence the bet. And why I, of all people, should be the referee. Forgive me..."

"Speaking of which..."

The witch ignored the guilty sound of his voice and positioned herself in such a way that she lay half on his chest. His hairiness tickled.

"You better not get swayed in your decision because of what's going on between us. This should remain a fair bet."

"I would never..."

Charlie stopped to recap her words in his head. Barely done, he turned their bodies with a grin. Brought his sturdy frame over her soft one. This was something both could definitely get used to.

"So there's something going on between us?"

"Well... do you want to have something going on between us?"

Instead of answering her verbally, the wizard let his lips speak in a different way. After a long, heat-inducing kiss, he leaned back. A meaningful expression in his eyes.

"Hm... Was that a maybe?" Gwendolyn asked teasingly. "I think I didn't quite understand that. Could you repeat it ag-"

Another kiss - or rather two smiles that merged into one - suffocated her words. The two lay intertwined next to each other for quite a while after that. Until the witch noticed the condition of the sheets, which had been stained with chocolate during their love play.

"Ah, that's right... Because of our chocolate duel, I'll have to dust the cake with icing sugar now," Gwendolyn complained dramatically. "Your actions could mean the difference between victory or defeat. You do realise that?"

The two laughed together. In the end, Charlie winked.

"I think we won something much better in this bet."

"Oh yeah?"

"Us."

**Author's Note:**

> Red wine cake recipe
> 
> Sponge mixture  
> 300 g flour  
> 250 g butter  
> 250 g sugar  
> 5 eggs  
> 4 tsp baking powder  
> 1/8 l red wine  
> 2 tsp cinnamon  
> 2 tsp cocoa  
> 150 g chocolate sprinkles  
> 1 chocolate glaze (or some icing sugar if you decide to glaze your wizard instead ;-) — Thank you, moonfairy, for this great addition. ♥ )


End file.
